Well, it's been rather a long time since my last blog post and I've been meaning to get writing again for quite some time. I moved to Cardiff in the middle of September to start my PhD and since then I've had so much to do that the blog has been left behind sadly. But no longer.
For this blog post I thought I'd just run through some of the highlights of the last month or so. Because of the time that's passed since my last entry, and because a lot has happened in that time, I've been highly selective for this post. I will mostly blog about films I've seen recently as although I've been reading a lot (both for pleasure and for a couple of seminars at uni), I think I'll save that for another blog post. That way I can spend more time on one or two particular things rather than try to summarise it all now.
The photo at the top of this blog is one I took recently. It's the view from the front of my flat as I look out from my desk by the window. For me this is one of the highlights of the flat. It faces onto a wide street with large trees running down the centre island separating the two roads. It's been a pleasure to observe the change in colour of the leaves, and to sometimes watch individual leaves fall to the ground. I'll post more photos of Cardiff soon. So far though, I haven't taken many photos so I must take my camera for a walk one of these days!
The first book I want to mention is David Graeber's book Towards an Anthropological Theory of Value: The False Coin of Our Own Dreams. Although I started this before I moved to Cardiff, I read the bulk of it here. I can't praise this book enough. Although there are some sections which begin to drag a little, overall it's one of the best books I've read this year without a doubt. Graeber sets himself the task of exploring and analysing the concept of value, drawing on his years of expertise as an anthropologist. What results is a lucid and stimulating account of his explorations.
There are two principle theorists which underpin the book, Karl Marx and Marcel Mauss, and Graeber brings them together in a complimentary way by using each to address the weak points of the other. Graeber explains various theories of the concept of value, such as Marx's dichotomy of 'use value' and 'exchange value,' as well as different forms of exchange, such as Mauss's theory of 'gift exchange.' Although it's abstract and theoretical at times, the book is peppered with anecdotes and examples from anthropological field work. Furthermore, Graeber demystifies a lot of economic theory and jargon through clear and concise prose.
There are many things to take away from this book. One of the most important things I took from this is that Graeber shows clearly that what is at stake in the concepts of value, exchange, debt and so on, are various forms of social relationship. Debt is, after all, just a system of promises, which can always be re-negotiated. Likewise, value is really just an expression of how much you are willing to invest of your creative energy in some project. Realising this is potentially liberating since once large numbers of people appreciate that all these terms are fundamentally about social relationships, they may well decide to engage in transformative political action.
Shortly after I moved to Cardiff I discovered a great alternative cinema, which I've been back to a couple of time already. But the first film I saw there was Pedro Almodovar's The Skin I Live In. The film is about a surgeon who is working on an experimental new type of skin which he has created in a lab. Without giving too much away, the film centres on the young woman who is being held captive by the surgeon and who is experimented on. I won't say anything about the plot as it would spoil the film greatly.
Thematically, the film can be seen as a meditation on transformation, identity, appearance, vanity, the refusal to let go of desire, and no doubt more besides. The first point of comparison which sprang to my mind was Angela Carter's The Passion of New Eve. The film is similar to this book in many ways, particularly the central theme of the transformation of the body. But in the end, the film doesn't have as rich a narrative as the book and ends rather abruptly in my opinion.
Perhaps the best thing about this film is the lush visual style and intense portrayal of sexuality, power and desire. In one scene, the surgeon's criminal brother arrives at his house in an elaborate tiger costume, discovers the beautiful woman being held captive, mistakes her for the now-dead ex-wife of his brother, and proceeds to rape her. Although it's uncomfortable viewing, it's also rather compelling and again reminds me of some of Angela Carter's work. In particular, it reminds me of the short stories collected in The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories. Again, Carter's work easily surpasses the film in my opinion, but the film still manages to create some visually stunning and intensely disturbing scenes.
It's not a positive story, granted, but it's interesting to see a film which tackles the problems of sexuality, power, and desire in a manner reminiscent of Angela Carter's work. It paints a bleak picture of how desire and resentment can become closely allied, how appearance can become more important than other aspects of living, and how sexuality is a troubling and ambiguous matter.
And speaking of Angela Carter, shortly after watching the film above I read one of her early novels: Love. This was written before The Bloody Chamber, before The Passion of New Eve, and before her more famous Wise Children and Nights at The Circus. It is less playful, less carnivalesque, and much bleaker than most of her other work. However, like all her works it is emotionally intense, rich in imagery and beautifully written. Throughout the novel, there are references to the Gothic, to pre-Raphaelite painting, and to Britain's counter-culture.
The novel focuses on three characters: two brothers and a young woman, who eventually marries one of the brothers. Whilst Lee tries to hold down a university course and then a job as a teacher, his drug-addict brother Buzz girlfriend Annabel stay mostly at home in their shared flat. Whilst Buzz spends his time stealing, taking photographs and doing drugs, Annabel mostly just sits in the flat all day. Occasionally she goes out to wander through a gothic park or paints on the walls of the flat.
The novel deals with many themes and ideas: obsessive love, being trapped in a hermetic world, dependency, suicide and the inability to face up to a sense of shared reality. Annabel mostly lives in her own private world, a world in which she can become invisible, and which she prefers to the external reality outside of the flat. Buzz has similar issues though in a different way. Lee seems the most sane of all of them, yet he has his own issues to deal with. In particular, he seems disturbingly irresponsible and insensitive to Annabel or Buzz's needs.
There are lots of interesting visual elements which drew my attention. In one scene, Lee arrives home to find that Annabel has painted an enormous, colourful tree on the wall. In a move typical of male heterosexual anxiety Lee construes this as a sign that they should have sex for the first time. It seems to him an answer to that most fraught question: what does woman want? Interestingly, Darian Leader talks about this in one of his books, which I read recently. His example is even more strange and disturbing: a jealous husband inspects his wife's underwear to count the number of pubic hairs that have fallen off her body - this being his way of trying to find her hidden jouissance. What Leader says is that most heterosexual men want the woman's body/sexuality to speak to them (and when it obviously doesn't they get anxious). Hence the love of hysterical women - their body really does seem to speak!
There is another great visual scene in the novel that takes place later. Annabel takes Lee to a tattoo parlour and has him agree to a tattoo of a heart with her name inscribed on his chest. Because Lee feels guilty about how he has treated her (she spends time in a hospital after attempting to commit suicide) he agrees to the tattoo without complaint or hesitation. But after this point, things only go from bad to worse.
This is a bleak novel which shows how painful love can be, how sexuality and power are never far apart, and how people can become trapped in their own closed off worlds. Despite this bleakness, it is an amazing read because of the power of its images and beautiful style.
Just two more films to report on before I finish the blog post. Firstly, I saw Lar von Trier's latest film, Melancholia. It's a film about the end of the world, and about how people might react to their immanent death. More than this, it's a meditation on life: on how we live our lives, how we can become suffocated by the depressing aspects of contemporary society, and about the lack of affective/aesthetic engagement present today.
The beginning was my favourite part of the film because the first few scenes are shot in ultra-slow motion and lit in a greenish, saturated way. This gives the film an other-worldly feel and also draws attention to the intensity of imperceptible moments in time. It seemed to me as if slowing down time allowed one to grasp something which is lost in the high-speed of contemporary society. In a certain sense, this relates to what I said about The Double Life of Veronique in my last blog post. Film has its own particular way of creating/showing intensities, intense processes which are lost in the buzz of modern societies, drowned out by the spectacular, the commercial and the banal.
This is rather surprising, since the film is about a catastrophe, something which is usually the staple of Hollywood blockbuster spectacles. But in von Trier's film, the catastrophe is not averted by an all-American hero and his team of rogues. Instead, the end of the world is inevitable and all we can do is face our existential dilemma. It is this inevitable doom which seems to turn the film into a kind of diagnosis of modern society. The depressed character in the film becomes animated, becomes alive, once she discovers that the end is near. It is as if her sickness is caused not by a mental disorder (a pathology) but by society itself. Her only happiness is in those endless moments before the earth is obliterated forever.
Lastly, I want to briefly mention Lynne Ramsey's latest film, We Need To Talk About Kevin. Her last film, Morven Callar, was released in 2002, so it's been a long to wait. But the wait has been worth it as her latest film is an extraordinarily moving and powerful film. The film concerns a mother reflecting on the horrendous crime her son has committed, and on her trying to understand her role in this (through her parenting role). Tilda Swinton plays the mother and I don't think she or anyone else could have done a better job. Her acting is incredible in this film. She manages to convey such an intense level of emotion that I felt truly drawn into her story.
Furthermore, this is one of those films which really makes the most of its medium (unsurprising given her two previous films). There are beautiful shots of lights caused by unfocusing the camera lens, numerous shots of everyday items, and a use of editing that creates a vivid sense of time and memory (much like Proust's involuntary memory). The camera will focus on an object and suddenly we are transported to a different time. Or a sound will be heard which again takes us back in time. It reminds me of films like Don't Look Now because it's brilliant use of the filmic medium to tell it's story.
Again, like all the films in the blog post, it's a disturbing story. But one worth viewing. If you like film for what it can do, then see this. If you enjoy films that challenge and provoke, then see this. I was captivated throughout.
That's it for this blog post. Hopefully, things will be back to normal now with more regular posting. Thanks for reading!
